"On sleepless roads the sleepless go." -Hear You Me, Jimmy Eat World
disc: don't own it
warnings: slash, non graphic non con
The Doctor had ended up at Hytagon's one and only drinking establishment, quite by accident of course. After he had stormed from the TARDIS, he had spent thirty minutes walking around in a rage and muttering to himself, before eventually walking the short distance to what could pass as a town in the Hytagon world, the only area of the moon that was permanently inhabited.
He had stumbled into the little tavern, rather reminiscent of something found on seventeenth century Earth, and ordered some of whatever everyone else was drinking. The Hytogaron behind the bar had given him a knowing smile before plonking a twisty glass of silver liquid down in front of him.
"Drink up sunshine," she'd advised with a smile. "You look like you need it."
That had been five twisty glasses ago, and the Doctor was beginning to feel the effects.
"That's the thing that really hurt," he explained to the bar maid, Elyse, for the third time. "That he didn't tell me."
"If it's something as awful as you say it is, he probably wanted to spare you from it," she said, lounging on the bar on her elbows in front of him.
"But I could've helped him," the Doctor insisted, ignoring the slight slur to his voice as he pushed his glass towards her again. She eyed him doubtfully for a moment, then re filled it.
"Tell me the truth, what bothers you more: that he didn't tell you, or that he told this Rose?"
The Doctor sighed and dropped his head onto the bar.
"I'm jealous."
Elyse nodded.
"I'd say so."
"I was just so angry." He punctuated the word by tapping his glass down on the bar –spilling half of his drink in the process. "It was supposed to be about us, you know? He was supposed to fall in love with me, not her, me. And now I don't know what to do."
"Listen." Elyse politely re filled his glass again as she spoke. "He hasn't been sticking his tongue down her throat, has he? He hasn't been sleeping, however platonically, with her. If he wanted her, from what you've told me, he would have her already. You need to stop being an idiot."
"I am an idiot," he nodded in drunken agreement. "A big, stupid idiot."
Elyse smiled sympathetically.
"Honey, I'm afraid that's what being in love does to you."
The Doctor blinked blearily at her. Being in love. He hadn't been able to bring himself to say it out loud yet, but it had been at the front of his mind for some time. Love and Jack, mixed up in the same sentence. Jack love.
He was reaching for his drink again, when his hand shook uncontrollably, sloshing yet more silver liquid onto the bar. Was he really that inebriated? He was putting the glass down again, when he realised it wasn't just his hand shaking, the whole bar was, his chair, the floor. The bar's occupants were staring at each other in confusion. Moons didn't have tectonic shifts. It wasn't physically possible. The room shook again, a glass painting falling off one of the walls and shattering.
Elyse stared at him, her eyes wide.
"What's going on?"
The Doctor shook his head in bewilderment.
He didn't know, but whatever it was wasn't supposed to be happening. And that usually only happened when he was around…
Clarity cut through the alcoholic haze fogging his mind, and he raced out of the bar, towards the TARDIS, even as another bone jarring shake rocked the ground beneath him.
The glowing light of the TARDIS cut through the night, and he quickened his pace, both hearts thumping when he saw the doors open, a figure sprawled, still, on the ground close by.
"Jack!"
There was no reaction at his shout, and as he got nearer, the Doctor could see the deep cut slashing across Jack's forehead, blood leaking in a steady stream down his face.
He knelt on the ground by him, carefully supporting his head as he tried to wake him.
"Jack, it's me. Can you hear me?"
Jack stirred, blinking his eyes open, wincing as he came into awareness.
"Doctor," he said. "They took Rose."
The Doctor felt frozen with panic for a long moment. Rose. They'd taken Rose, whoever they were, and the Doctor didn't care that much right then. They'd taken Rose, and if anything happened to her it would be on his conscience for the rest of his long life. She was just a teenager, still so innocent, and he'd promised to protect her.
Wait a minute. Innocent.
"I think I know where she'll be. Go back inside the TARDIS and stay there. You know how to fly her. If the moon collapses…"
He didn't finish the thought.
Jack struggled to his feet, and the Doctor opened his mouth, trying desperately to think of something to say to Jack before they parted.
Because if he couldn't get the moon stabilised he might never see Jack again, and he didn't want it to end like this, not like this.
"Jack-"
"She needs you," Jack interrupted, and the Doctor couldn't miss the hard glint in his eye. He didn't want to hear anything the Doctor had to say.
The Doctor nodded, once, then turned and ran as fast as he could.
Towards the Ice Mountains.
They were yellow.
That was what Jack couldn't seem to get past, as he stared at the aliens who were holding Rose captive, slowly leaking her blood from a vicious looking cut on one arm onto Keytpo.
He knew what they were of course, a kind of pygmy who were only intent on causing trouble and trying to dominate small systems, but he'd never actually seen one before, and they were a bright, amazing yellow.
Unfortunately, their vibrant colour didn't make up for their squashed noses, bat like ears and wrinkly skin. But you couldn't have it all.
Jack's head was throbbing where they'd caught it with one of their axes, when they'd kidnapped Rose, but Jack was damned if he was going to sit around waiting to escape to safety while the one person in the universe who seemed to understand him was in mortal peril. Screw the Doctor. He had followed him to the mountains, and the Doctor had glanced back, once, to see him, but hadn't stopped him. He probably realised that Jack would just ignore him anyway.
The pygmies were communicating in shrill, high pitched whistles that morphed into words inside Jack's head. Silly, nonsense words. They were like children, just wanting to cause mischief. Did they even realise that people's lives were in danger?
"Let her go."
Ignoring the Doctor's frantic eyes, he strode forward, into the cave.
The pygmies all turned to look at him as one, then broke in raucous giggles.
"Let her go!" they chattered. "Let her go?!"
A few raise raised their weapons in mock threat, a mismatched bunch of axes, blasters, daggers, even what looked like an Earth gun. Pygmies were like magpies, scavengers, stealing whatever they could get their hands on.
"Let her go! Yes, let her go after moon goes tipsies!"
This, followed by more manic giggles.
Jack stepped closer, and one scampered towards him, the Earth gun clasped tight in its pudgy yellow hand.
"No closer!" it squeaked. "Closer and bang bang bang!"
The creatures erupted into giggles again, and Jack felt the last shred of his patience and ever waning sanity dissolve.
"Go on then!" he yelled. "Shoot me!"
He walked determinedly towards the creature until the barrel of the gun was pressed against one cheek, the cold metal digging into his soft skin.
"Because believe me, you've picked the wrong day to cause trouble within ten feet of me. So what are you waiting for? Shoot me! Just fucking kill me!"
He reached up and wrapped one hand around the gun, digging it more harshly into his cheek, relishing the biting pain.
"What the fuck are you hanging around for?"
The pygmy holding the gun was staring at him with wide, red eyes, confused, but Jack was too far gone to notice.
"Kill me! Just fucking kill me!"
"Jack."
The Doctor's quiet voice cut through the aching haze that had wrapped around his brain since last night, and he drew in a ragged breath, clinging to the barrel of the gun as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"That's enough."
He shook his head silently, because it wasn't enough. He couldn't live anymore. Not when everything was so sharp and painful.
He didn't resist, though, when he felt the Doctor's hands on his shoulders, pulling him back, away from the gun, steadying him.
"You've had your fun," the Doctor said quietly to the pygmies. "Now go."
The pygmies glanced uncertainly at one another, then one by one began to slope towards the cave entrance, their weapons drooping sadly on the floor behind them.
At the end of the day they were just children. Children intent on causing as much mischief as possible, but not with any real malice.
The Doctor didn't look at Jack as he went to Rose, checking her arm and asking quietly if she was okay, before turning and leading the way out if the mountains.
Rose squeezed Jack's hand before following the Doctor, and Jack stood very still for a moment, left alone with only the soft glowing of the great ice crystal.
He forced himself to follow Rose and the Doctor, back to the TARDIS, and they all stood inside the control room for a moment, Rose glancing awkwardly between them as the Doctor stared determinedly at the console, his mouth tight and Jack bit his lip.
"I'm going to go and clean my arm," she said. "And have a shower. I'll see you in the morning."
Jack nodded, but the Doctor gave no sign that he had heard, or was listening.
Rose left, and the silence was almost unbearable.
"Doctor," Jack tried eventually, but the Doctor cut him off, turning to face him, eyes blazing.
"Don't," he snapped. "Don't stand there and makes excuses. I heard you, Jack. You asked him to shoot you, to kill you."
At the words, Jack felt his own temper flare.
"And why do you think that was, Doctor?"
"You should have told me!"
"It isn't about you!" Jack yelled. "It's about me, about what happened to me, so don't tell me who I should or shouldn't have told."
The Doctor was silent, but Jack was too filled with righteous anger to notice.
"How dare you stand there and yell at me. You have no fucking idea what I have been through, what they fucking did to me." He half choked on a sob, but forced himself to go on. "Every time I close me eyes I'm back in that room. Every time I go to sleep I relive it. I can't get away from it up here." He stabbed at his temple with his index finger. "I can't get away."
He was so tired. He was so tired and so sick of it running through and through his head. He just wanted it to stop.
"I just want it gone," he murmured, all the fight in him lost. "I just want them gone."
He closed his eyes and felt the Doctor's arms wrap around him, holding him close, and he let his head drop onto the Doctor's shoulder, too tired to resist, too tired to be angry.
"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, lips pressed against his hair. "I'm so sorry."
He let the Doctor lead him to his bedroom, undress him, place him under the covers and crawl in beside him, holding him as if he thought Jack might shatter at his touch.
"I'm okay," Jack murmured, without opening his eyes.
He felt the Doctor's arms around him tighten.
"I know," he said.
The lies they were telling seemed thick and heavy in the room, pressing in on them as they slept.
Jack wasn't sure how long he slept, but he woke panicked, screaming, pushing desperately against the Doctor's arms, flailing out until his hand came into contact with the Doctor's face, and the grip on him relaxed in surprise.
He rolled away, trying to catch his breath, aware that he was perfectly safe but unable to completely forget the terror which had been coursing through him only moments ago, still feeling the rough hands pinning him down.
Taking a few more deep breaths he turned back to the Doctor, wincing as he saw the red mark he'd made at the edge of the Doctor's mouth.
"Sorry."
The Doctor shook his head.
"It's fine. Are you okay?"
Jack nodded, running a shaking hand over his face.
"I'm fine."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head, lying back down, and felt the Doctor settle beside him a moment later, a tentative hand tracing along his arm.
Despite the content of his nightmare, Jack was grateful for the physical contact and rolled onto one side, so he was facing the Doctor.
"You can talk to me about it," the Doctor said softly. "If you need to, or want to."
Jack didn't reply, eyes tracing the Doctor's features, cast in shadows and darkness.
"My reaction," the Doctor continued. "Before. I'm sorry. I just…I was so angry. Not at you," he added hastily. "At them. And I just…I just couldn't seem to…"
Jack pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him.
"It's okay. I understand."
And in some strange way he did understand. It may have been Jack who'd gone through the actual experience, but to have to stand there and listen to it having happened to someone you cared about, to stand there and know you could have stopped it, prevented it…
Yes, Jack thought he could probably understand.
The Doctor reached for him, wrapping his arms around Jack's body, burying his face against his neck.
"I love you," he said, voice slightly muffled. "I love you so much."
Jack squeezed his eyes shut.
"When they came in, Veronica Baudelaire had a gun against my forehead," His voice was steady. "They crashed through one of the glass walls and shot her. One of them tried to do it then, was ripping my clothes off, when another said there wasn't much time, that they had to take me somewhere. They carried me out into the corridor, and that's when I saw Dominic. He'd been shot, killed. I started screaming, I think, so they knocked me unconscious and when I woke up I was in the room. I remember opening my eyes and staring up at the ceiling…"
And so, in the dark, the Doctor's face pressed against his neck and the words of love still in his ears, Jack Harkness told his story.
Fin.